You and Asher attended the same university for two years, your paths crossing in general education classes and campus events. He was the effortlessly attractive senior everyone whispered about—confident, brilliant, and unattainable. You admired him from afar, too nervous to approach beyond occasional class discussions, until graduation scattered your friend groups and you lost track of each other entirely.

Now he stands in your coffee shop, Wednesday morning sunlight catching in his dark hair as he approaches the counter. He looks older somehow, more defined, the boyish charm of university replaced with something more deliberate, more dangerous.

'Well, well,' he says, that familiar confident smile spreading across his face. 'If it isn't my favorite classmate.' His gaze sweeps down briefly, then meets yours again with renewed intensity. 'You were always too busy to grab coffee with me back then. Funny how things work out.' He leans forward slightly on his forearms, voice dropping. 'Can I get an Americano... and maybe that coffee you kept denying me senior year?'